


Pink Magnolias

by moonpride



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Facials, M/M, Paizuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonpride/pseuds/moonpride
Summary: Yuuri has fallen in lust with Victor's impressiveassets, but with their relationship still in the early stages, he's not sure how much he's allowed to ask before Victor thinks him a weirdo. Luckily for him, Victor's a lot more perceptive than Yuuri thinks, and there's absolutely nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved.





	Pink Magnolias

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the anon(s) who patiently waited for this for... I lost track of the weeks. I'm so very sorry.
> 
> In this fic, Victor and Yuuri's relationship is still relatively new, so, while I'm of the school of thought that Yuuri has a lot more confidence than most fans give him credit for, I also believe that between his anxiety and his inexperience with sex and relationships there'd be times where he worries over Victor's opinion, what it's okay to say or ask and so on. I definitely see him as a _carnivore_ , just one whose confidence and eros has to be brought to light first. I also wanted to portray their cute banter which appears so often in fan comics but I feel like I failed with getting across what I was going for. Oh well. Sorry again for the wait, the length and the overall awful quality.
> 
> Lastly, I have three more fics in the works. One is a squel to [La Découverte](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10140176) featuring all the lovely suggestions everyone left in their comments, another is another request from the anon(s) I kept waiting and the third is a multichaptered AU that was born because I wanted to write my own version of a pretty popular AU concept, in a way that made sense to me. I honestly have no idea what will be posted first or when, exactly, but I would be very happy if, when the time comes, you'll still be here with me.

To Yuuri’s credit, he’d tried.

From the very start, some part of him had known he was fighting a losing battle but even so he’d pushed himself until the bitter end, refusing to give into such disgraceful instincts until he simply couldn’t anymore.

They would be talking, lounging around after dinner maybe, and Victor’s jinbei would come a little bit loose just as he leaned in to whisper something into Yuuri’s ear, and all Yuuri could focus on was that pale strip of newly uncovered skin, the generous swell of muscle and the pretty pink nipple that never failed to make him wonder how would it feel in his mouth, rolling across his tongue.

At first, he’d made himself look away; then, forced to come to terms with the intensity of his lust, he’d tried to be discreet about it at least (out of shame, yes, of course, but also, how could Yuuri ever allow himself to defile his god like that?); finally, as their relationship changed and with the changes came the kisses that Yuuri never knew before, and the touches that lingered and burned, so unexpectedly different from Victor’s casual invasions of his personal space, pretending that he wasn’t looking started to feel as inappropriate as openly staring.

Being together meant that he was allowed to do that sort of thing, right? … Perhaps. Perhaps, if he took it for granted, Victor would think him arrogant, or a pervert (which maybe he was, but self-awareness doesn’t necessarily come with a willingness to share your thoughts, especially when you’re the unlucky owner of a glass heart). Was he supposed to ask first, then, or would that only make him even more pathetic before Victor’s eyes?

It wasn’t as if Victor didn’t know Yuuri was a virgin. He had felt it in the way his hands faltered and grew too impatient or too hesitant in the dark, when the hunger within Yuuri finally grew enough to wipe away insecurities and fears, but even then that boldness couldn’t make up for the experience he lacked. There had been times when Victor had laughed or teased a little bit, soft and amused but not cruel, because he was Victor Nikiforov, blunt as he was dazzling, but he also adored Yuuri more than anything. And so, he’d let him set the pace and explore the planes of his body as he pleased, taking over only when Yuuri was obviously at a loss or asked him to.

Even so, there had to be a limit to one’s patience: Yuuri was pretty sure that his obsession with Victor’s chest was too much, even for an inexperienced virgin suddenly trying to make up for lost time like him.

After all, he had never heard of anyone being so enthralled by a guy’s chest.

He remembered his classmates, in middle and high school, spouting crass comments on this or that idol’s bust size in an attempt to appear more grown up and manly--something that had never failed to make him feel ashamed and out of place, because that wasn’t the sort of thing you should declare to the world like that, and because he could never relate. Years later, in Michigan, Yuuri had found out that girls could be just as shameless when they were desperately trying to break out of roles that his female classmates back in Japan had seemingly accepted without a word. While he still couldn’t relate to the fascination with women’s breasts, something about that situation had made him feel slightly more at ease however.

Now, as he watched milky rivulets of water and shower gel dribble down the curves of Victor’s chest in the Katsukis’ private bathroom, Yuuri wondered if this was what all those people had felt back then. Because, really, if this was only a tenth of what his old classmates had gone through, then maybe he couldn’t blame them that much anymore for being so vocal: with no outlets or a place to escape to, Yuuri was sure he’d explode soon.

“Is everything alright?”

Victor, sitting on a stool next to him, leaned in with a concerned face.

“Yes,” said Yuuri as he thought, I hope scraping whatever’ll be left of me off the tiles won’t be too hard. He’d hate to inconvenience his parents even in death, after all.

Victor gave him a skeptical look that very clearly said he didn’t buy it, but respectfully backed off all the same--

Yuuri sighed.

\--and proceeded to run his hands all over his chest in a way that Yuuri was fairly sure wasn’t some kind of secret Russian scrubbing technique. That is, unless Russian bathing habits were normally this erotic.

“Um,” Yuuri said.

“Ah,” Victor moaned, fingers brushing over his nipples.

“V-Victor!”

Yuuri whipped his head around, half expecting his sister, or worse, one of his parents to open the door and inquire after the sudden commotion.

Victor moaned louder.

“Please stop!”

Victor didn’t stop.

Victor, beautiful, wild, unpredictable Victor, actually went and pinched one of his nipples.

Letting him join when Yuuri had decided he could do without the noisy crowd of tourists splashing around in the onsen for the night had clearly been a mistake. Of course Victor would have some sort of unspeakable plan up his sleeve: ever since the tension between them had bloomed into a romantic relationship, as if to compensate his overwhelming and one-sided first attempts to get closer to Yuuri, Victor had seemingly developed an ability to pick on even the slightest whiff of lust or simple desire for affection coming from Yuuri and, as if reading his mind, as soon as Yuuri found himself unbearably filled with those thoughts yet unable to voice them, Victor would take advantage of the first chance that presented itself to fulfill them--or he would make sure to create one himself.

The thought - the reality - that this amazing person would do his best to match his pace was something that made Yuuri happy to the point of tears whenever he reflected on it; right now, however, the possibility that Victor might have caught on what was going on in his head as of late almost made the blood drain from his face.

He blinked, trying to push away all the catastrophic scenarios before they flooded his mind completely, and looked back at Victor who, cheeks flushed from the heat and his own ministrations, was frowning at him. If he weren’t busy fighting off his own deadly embarrassment, Yuuri would have laughed at the strangely adorable image of a naked, half-hard Victor pouting like the cute teen he had been at one point, several years ago.

But then Victor said, “Do you think I didn’t notice how you’ve been staring at my chest?”, he sounded pissed off, nothing cute about it at all, and Yuuri’s stomach dropped and was replaced with something like frozen lead because there was no doubt now that Victor _knew_.

But then Victor whined, “Yuuri is so unfair,” and Yuuri felt so lost at that he could almost hope he wasn’t going to be hated for being some kind of weird pervert. 

“I told myself to wait, because Yuuri would surely tell me: we agreed to tell each other these things, didn’t we? But it’s been _sooo long_ and even now that I made it so that Yuuri wouldn’t even need to ask, he’s still rejecting me!”

“Wait a moment, are you blaming me now?”

For a moment, Yuuri did not recognize the snappy tone as his own but then he realized that oh, of course, he was pissed! Yes, they’d agreed to share their own fantasies with each other, but surely Victor could understand that talking something out wouldn’t automatically make it easy. Except Victor never seemed to worry about anything but his own wishes when he took a decision, no matter how outrageous--he’d been blessed with that kind of absolute confidence in himself that Yuuri could only dream of, after all.

“I’m not--I’m not blaming you, I just don’t want the man I love to hold back around me. I have been telling you what I fantasize about, the things I want to try together, haven’t I?”

There it was, Victor making everything sound so easy, like all hardships and fears were all in Yuuri’s head--and perhaps, perhaps that was how it was. He remembered Victor’s smile, bright and open even in the darkness of his room, as he listed the ways he’d pleasure Yuuri if he allowed it, and the ways he dreamed and wished Yuuri would make him sob with need. It was like realizing all over the trust in that smile, in those words; in telling Yuuri without reservations just how much power he had over Victor and how easily he could break him apart, if he wanted to. And, oh, did _Victor_ want him to: he remembered, with a shiver, the greed, the lust and the love in Victor’s eyes as he worshipped his feet, his legs, his thighs, his cock, on that very night.

“Victor,” he heard himself call, softly.

He opened his arms and Victor came to him. The plastic stool creaked under their combined weight, but the tag boasting an endurance up to 100 kg reassured Yuuri that it would hold out.

Victor loosely wrapped his arms around his neck and pushed their foreheads together. He was back to his adorable frown, cheeks slightly puffed out. Yuuri thought he would very much like to kiss them, so he did: clumsily and red in the face like it was the first time.

Perhaps, beautiful, wild, unpredictable Victor needed Yuuri to trust him so openly too, from time to time.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out quickly, afraid that his resolve might crumble if he took his time again.

Victor closed his eyes. “I’m sorry too. I never meant to push you. I just--”

“I know, I understand,” he swallowed. “You are always waiting for me to catch up to you. I don’t want Victor to feel alone because of my cowardice. We’re together.”

Victor’s eyes studied him for a long moment. “You know,” he began with a small smile that said: yes, we are. “Don’t tell the press or Yurio, but lately the lines under my eyes have grown just a little bit deeper, and if I’m anything like my father, I’ll end up with laugh lines by the time I’m 30. When I look at my boyfriend’s youthful face I worry he’ll notice that I’m quickly turning into an old man, and then he’ll leave me for someone younger and more beautiful!”

Yuuri snorted, half exasperated and half on the brink of laughing in Victor’s face. Leave him? As if. Besides, Yuuri doubted someone more beautiful than him could ever exist: just like he’d gracefully grown from an ethereal, androgynous figure into a breathtaking young man with broad shoulders, Yuuri was sure that Victor’s charm would keep on evolving, taking on different forms as his body changed, without ever leaving him.

(He’d tried picturing a middle-aged Victor, once, his hair shorter and slicked back, with deep lines around his eyes and mouth, yes, dressed in one of those sharp suits he favored. At night, that ghost came from the future to worm its way into his dreams and take fresh-faced, 23 year old Yuuri’s virginity. He’d woken himself up with an embarrassingly loud moan, wet and sticky and still hard. Yuuri filed that away to share with Victor at a different time, and said, instead--)

“Oh, Victor, even when you are all wrinkly and bald, I’ll still love you.”

“ _Yuuri_!”

For a long moment, there was silence.

They stared at each other until one burst out laughing and the other followed and then, they that knew everything was fine.

“See?” Victor pouted. “This is why I would greatly benefit from my bully of a boyfriend expressing his appreciation for, say, the result of many years of sacrifice and hard work,” and as he said so, he ran a hand down the pronounced curve of pecs.

“Really,” was all Yuuri could manage, mouth dry and brain useless. There was no way he’d ever be able to detach his eyes from Victor’s chest or think about anything else, now that he didn’t have a reason to hide anymore.

“Yes, really.”

Cheerfully, innocently, Victor took Yuuri’s hand into his and splayed it over his own heart.

Victor’s chest was broad and firm: it wasn’t his first time touching it, of course, but now that the cat was out of the bag it was as if Yuuri was finally allowing himself to appreciate it thoroughly, the way he’d always wanted to.

“Your muscles, here,” he murmured, pushing the tip of his fingers against Victor’s chest, “are so thick, especially for a skater. You know, after you hit your growth spurt, I thought it made you all the more admirable that you could skate so beautifully even with that broad frame.”

“Oh? So the nature of your fixation was merely professional?”

Yuuri could tell Victor had tried to sound playful, but his voice was too raspy, too charged not to give away the fact that was overcome with lust--not that his stirring cock didn’t already make it obvious as it bumped against Yuuri’s stomach and his own cock whenever Victor shifted in his lap.

“No, it wasn’t, it wasn’t just that. I loved--I love the way you look.”

“How do I look?”

“Like,” Yuuri licked his lips. “Like a god.”

“Yuuri,” Victor whispered in something like awe.

“You look… You are perfect. I love your shoulders and your back, and how narrow your waist and your hips are, and your nose and your jaw--You look so… so _manly_. With your chest, I thought… I thought, I could _feel_ that, how strong you are, um, on my skin.”

Victor’s hands cupped his cheeks, trying to lift his face. Yuuri resisted at first: he felt foolish. Victor didn’t give up, though, and gently, gently he kept on pushing until they were looking each other in the eye.

Finally, he asked: “Show me how?”

He sounded so earnest, almost pleading, like there was nothing he wanted more than to give Yuuri what he wanted, whatever that was, and it was that boundless, shameless devotion that severed the last thread that still kept Yuuri anchored to his shyness.

He ran his hands across Victor’s chest, savoring the feel of his soap-slicked skin under his fingerpads, and the erotic image of Victor moaning, mouth a perfect _O_ and eyebrows scrunched together as if he couldn’t believe how deeply he felt Yuuri’s touch when blunt fingernails barely scratched his nipples.

“Yuuri,” he croaked. “Yuuri, please, tell me, I want to make you feel good.”

Heart hammering in his throat, Yuuri looked down and saw Victor’s flushed cock, already fully erect and prettily arching against his stomach. There was something about the contrast between its impressive length and girth and how _beautiful_ it looked that was distinctly Victor. Just looking at it made Yuuri hyper-aware of his empty hole, and he felt himself unconsciously spreading his legs apart. Ah, he was greedy. He wanted all of Victor to himself, in every way he could have him.

“But don’t you want to come yourself, Victor?”

“I do, so much already, Yuuri. You have no idea what you do to me--that’s why, I wouldn’t be able to come unless I made sure you were satisfied first.”

 _Oh_.

Perhaps, Victor would forgive him that greediness then, and allow him the honor of being filled up by his cock after, after…

“Please get on the floor.”

His voice was empty.

Victor’s eyes grew wide. He nodded and slid off of Yuuri’s lap, until his knees were kissing the cold tiles.

Yuuri tugged at his own cock to make sure it would be completely erect for this.

Victor stared.

“I want…”

“Yes, tell me.”

“I want, with your chest, I, ah,” putting together a coherent sentence was impossible while he was basically edging himself, while Victor looked at him like that and one of this biggest fantasies was about to come true.

“Please, Yuuri, stop touching yourself: I want to be the one that makes you come.”

“Ah, yes, that’s--I want to come with your chest, please Victor, can you, please, I, I want it so bad.”

“My beautiful, beautiful Yuuri.” Victor took his hand into his to lick off the drops of precome that had rolled onto it. “You have the hottest, most perfect ideas,” he kissed the back of it lovingly. “Of course I will, god, how could I ever let this chance pass.”

Victor scooted closer, close enough to be able to press a few sloppy, lingering kisses to Yuuri’s cock with a face that screamed reverence and adoration. Then, he positioned it against the dip between his pecs, which he pushed closer with his hands.

Yuuri groaned. The pressure was unexpected and too much at first because his cock was too sensitive, and yet it was so, so delicious.

“Is this good?”

“It’s perfect,” he barely got out, before Victor started moving, hands now almost cupping his cock as the heels kept on pressing down on his pecs to keep them in position: it was warm and soft and firm, a soap-slicked cocoon that produced the most delicious friction as Victor moved, up and down, so that Yuuri’s cock would be rubbed all over. He was completely enveloped by Victor, his skin, his muscles, his power. Thinking about it like that had already been unbearably hot when he used to get himself off, and now that it was happening for real, Yuuri felt like he would go crazy.

Victor never closed his eyes, keeping them glued to Yuuri’s face to study his reactions and move accordingly. The idea that he’d prioritize Yuuri’s pleasure like that only added to the the messy, erotic picture he painted then, with his cheeks flushed and his damp, messy hair, and a rivulet of drool running down his chin that became a silvery thread connecting his mouth and Yuuri’s cock together after he’d pressed another kiss to the tip.

Victor was coming undone; Victor, untouchable and dazzling, handsome and strong, was losing his mind like pleasuring another man with his chest was the highest form of sexual intercourse, like nothing would ever top it--he looked like he’d been born to do this.

Yuuri only noticed he’d said that last part aloud when Victor practically yelled, launched forward by a powerful shudder that vibrated throughout his body at the words.

“I think I was too,” he whispered, panting, desperate, out of breath. “I’d do this every day if you let me.”

Yuuri knew he would lose it then: it was simply too much--the feeling around his cock, Victor’s words, Victor, god, _Victor_.

“You, you should move,” he warned in a trembling voice. “I’m about to, ah, come.”

It was as if Victor’s entire face lit up.

“You are?” Yuuri nodded and Victor’s grip only grew stronger, his rhythm more frantic. “It’s okay, you can come like this--I want to make you come like this--I want--oh god, Yuuri--I want, you to come on me, ah, on my face, may I, may I have that?”

Ah, that wording was going to kill him--

“Yes, yes you may, hng.”

\--If Victor didn’t kill him first: what with the way he opened his mouth at once, pink tongue sticking out so prettily, as if waiting to drink up Yuuri’s semen?

There was no way he’d be able to hold out any longer after that. No human being with a sex drive could have.

The first spurt hit Victor’s chin and his tongue chased right after it as if licking off the remnants of a particularly tasty ice-cream.

Another string of pearly semen hit his throat.

Victor, a comically frustrated expression on his face, angled his head and opened his mouth wider to make sure the next spurts would land there.

Yuuri knew they did when Victor let out an especially pleased moan. He was positive he’d never heard anything more lewd than that.

He choked on his own spit when Victor, finally allowing himself some relief via his right hand, lifted his head to look into his eyes again, showing off with pride the strings of come decorating his face.

“I’m yours,” he said.

Yuuri watched, unable to say anything at all; he watched as Victor’s eyes fell closed, as his mouth opened again in a silent scream and his whole body convulsed with pleasure.

Victor was so beautiful, and he was his. For as long as god would allow him, he’d truly succeeded in stealing him from the world.

With Victor coming so hard, Yuuri doubted he’d be able to go for a second round at this point, but what he’d gotten was so much more than he’d ever imagined, that he couldn’t bring himself to mind in the slightest.

He let himself slide off of the stool and wrapped his arms around Victor’s head.

“You were amazing,” he murmured into his hair. “Thank you so much.”

Victor looked up, so obviously tired and yet his smile was so, so bright.

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. I hope I convinced you that the perks are worth the embarrassment.”

Yuuri laughed. “Oh, definitely.”


End file.
